Chapter One Marked by Moonlight
1483 Words
The trees didn't scream with sound—but with memory.
Blood soaked the roots beneath the snow, and old magic pulsed through the bark like a warning. Alero stumbled forward, her hand clutching her side, where the mark burned beneath her ribs—hot, searing, and alive.
The moon hung low above the wildlands, silver-bright and watching. The runes carved into the border shimmered, daring her to cross.
One more step, and she would betray her coven.
Or something worse.
But her visions had never lied before.
And this time, they had shown his face.
Kael. The Alpha's son. A blade in his hand. Her mother’s blood on the ground. Destiny, the vision had whispered. His hand delivered the blow. The last thing her mother saw. It never showed why. Never showed what led to that moment. Only that it happened.
But visions were cruel like that—never showing everything and always leaving questions.
And yet, as the mark beneath her ribs burned hotter, Alero’s resolve sharpened. This wasn’t fate claiming her—it was her claiming justice. Revenge, clear and earned.
Kael Vale had taken her mother.
Tonight, she would take him.
Kael Vale. Alpha. Branded Killer. And, if fate had any bitterness left, the mate she was never meant to claim.
She stepped into the ward.
The barrier hissed, lashing magic across her skin like thorns, but she gritted her teeth and pushed forward. The runes flared, and then dimmed.
It let her in.
Because it knew.
She wasn't human anymore. Part vampire. Part witch.
And something older. Something fractured. Something the forest hadn't forgotten.
The snow muffled her footsteps as she moved deeper into enemy land. The scent hit her first—pine, wild musk.
And him.
He was close.
Too close.
Three wolves leapt from the shadows, teeth bared, eyes glowing.
Alero didn’t flinch.
She whispered a word, ancient and sharp. Magic surged from her palms, wrapping around her blade, coating it in shadowfire.
The first wolf lunged.
Her dagger met flesh, slicing through with supernatural ease as magic flared, incinerating the beast mid-snarl.
The second wolf leapt but a burst of energy cracked from her free hand, slamming it into a tree, its cry cut short.
The third hesitated.
Alero’s eyes glowed. She flicked her wrist, and shadow tendrils lashed out, snaring its legs. The wolf yelped, scrambling, but she was faster.
Her blade arced—swift, clean.
Then: silence.
She stood in the snow, breath sharp in her lungs—not from the fight—but from what she felt in the air.
He was here.
"Didn't think you'd actually come," a voice said, smooth and familiar.
Kael Vale stepped into the clearing, bare-chested, unfazed by the cold. A tribal wolf tattoo curled on his arm like it had a pulse of its own. His golden eyes met hers, steady and unflinching.
Alero tensed a bit.
But she wasn't prey.
"I didn't come to talk," she said flatly.
"I know you wouldn't."
He took a step forward. She held her ground.
"I killed your sentries."
"I know."
"Are you going to avenge them?"
He tilted his head. "Did they touch you?"
"No."
"Then they got off easy."
His voice was calm—but every word dripped with something savage.
Her pulse jumped. Magic stirred in her blood, itching beneath her skin.
"You're marked," he said, gaze dropping to her side.
She glanced down. The black flame-like scar curled beneath her ribs, visible through her torn shirt.
"You recognize it?" she asked.
His jaw tightened. "I have one too."
Her heart stuttered. "Liar."
Kael stepped closer, slow and sure. "Why do you think I've been dreaming about your blood for months?"
The air between them shifted, thick with tension. Her fingers twitched on her dagger.
"Don't," she warned.
"I'm not here to claim you."
"Good. Because I'm not yours."
His eyes darkened, emotion flickering behind the gold. "Then why are you trembling?"
"I'm not."
He moved, too fast to track.
Suddenly, he was in front of her. One hand at her throat. Her blade at his heart.
Magic surged between them like fire caught in a storm. Her breath hitched.
"You shouldn't have come," he whispered.
"Too bad," she shot back. "I'm here to kill you."
Then—
He kissed her.
It wasn't soft.
It was destiny tasting like blood.
And she didn't pull away.
Not until her fangs sank into his lip and drew blood.
His taste hit her like wildfire. Visions slammed into her, too many, too fast.
A child screaming. A mother burned. Kael standing over her, a blade in his hand. But something was wrong—he wasn’t alone. Shadows loomed behind him. Chains bound his wrists. His eyes—weren't cruel, but desperate. Controlled.
She stumbled back, gasping.
Kael staggered too, eyes wild. "You bit me."
"You kissed me."
His hand flew to his neck where a second mark now bloomed, hers.
The bond had awakened.
But this wasn't fate's doing.
It was something older.
Something darker.
Pain lashed through her ribs. She fell to her knees, gasping. Her magic twisted. Her body seized. Not from the bite, but from the truth.
She wasn't just marked.
She was infected.
Kael lunged toward her. She held up a hand.
"Don't," she rasped.
"I can help—"
"You can't fix what's coming." Her voice cracked. "You don't understand. It's not just a bond."
"What is it?"
Her eyes lifted to his, glowing with something not entirely hers.
"It's a curse."
And then she vanished, into shadow, into forest, into memory.
Kael stood alone beneath the moon, blood still warm on his tongue.
Behind him, his second-in-command arrived, eyes wide at the c*****e.
"Alpha—what the hell happened?"
Kael didn't answer.
He turned toward the woods.
"She's not just mine," he murmured. "She's the end of everything."
Snow crunched under his boots as he walked away, jaw tight, eyes distant. The scent of her blood still lingered in the air.
Not much. Just enough to twist something feral in his gut.
"Do we hunt her?" Rafe asked behind him.
"No."
"But she—"
"I said no," Kael snapped. His voice cracked like thunder.
The wolves didn't move.
Kael didn't shift.
Didn't speak.
He just walked deeper into the woods, alone.
Alero collapsed against the base of a crooked ash tree, her magic still shaking loose in her blood. Her breath came ragged.
The mark throbbed beneath her skin.
Visions struck like lightning:
Kael in chains.
A council of wolves.
A woman of silver flame whispering, Unleash her.
Then—
A child.
Screaming.
Burning.
Marking her own mother with blood.
And Kael—his eyes locked to hers, blade trembling in his hand, like he didn’t want to be holding it.
Alero gripped her head. "Enough," she hissed.
But the visions didn't stop.
They never did.
Meanwhile, Kael stood alone before the old stone altar deep in the woods—a place even most wolves forgot existed. The moon hung heavy overhead, and frost clung to every branch like a warning.
His fingers grazed the rough surface.
It was cold. Unmoving. Until the mark on his neck flared.
Her mark.
Alero.
The warmth from it spread just enough to remind him she wasn't gone. That what had passed between them—whatever it was—was still there. Still dangerous. Still real.
"She's not the enemy," he said aloud, though no one was there to hear it. "She's just... lost."
No answer came. Only wind through the trees.
But silence had a way of saying things too.
He pulled his hand back and stepped away, jaw tight, thoughts louder than the forest.
Alero sat curled in the shadows of the watchtower, tucked into a corner like she could fold into herself and disappear. Her arms wrapped tight around her knees. The floor was cold. The whole place smelled of dust and rot.
But it was quiet. And right now, that mattered more.
She hadn't meant to kiss him.
She hadn't meant to bite him either.
But the bond, whatever it was, had pulled her in like a tide. And now it pulsed beneath her skin like it belonged to her.
Her fingers trembled as she pressed them to the mark beneath her ribs. It was warm. Alive. Waiting.
"I can't want this," she whispered. "I can't want him."
But the words didn't make it less true.
Kael was the Alpha. The killer. The reason her mother was dead.
But the new vision showed something else.
And now, Kael was the only one who had ever looked at her and seen a person, not a weapon.
She shook her head. Tears prickled at her eyes, but she blinked them away.
"Don't make me choose him," she whispered again.
The wind slipped through the cracks in the walls.
But the mark stayed warm.
Still waiting.
- Writer
